Ishura - Volume 2 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Linaris the Obsidian

It was back before the assault on Togie City, four short months prior.

Itaaki Highland City, home of Sirok the Sextant, was cold and dreary, blanketed in cloudy weather year-round.

It wasn’t a poor city. The region, with its clear waters and yields of high-quality radzio ore, was a high-class vacation home destination, up until they were all abandoned in the face of the True Demon King’s invasion, and it used to be quite active and prosperous.

Now, it was as though a thin black curtain was draped over all the scenery. The people on the streets constantly felt the weight of this invisible black curtain, with the colorful goods displayed in the market, too, looking faded through its veil.

It may have been an effect of the True Demon King’s terror, still lingering in the world.

Or perhaps…it was the shadow of Sirok’s own mind, having once sworn in his young heart he would retake his city from the Demon King, only for his own strength to prove insufficient to grant his wish.

After making it through the city streets, he looked at his destination.

That’s a big mansion.

The residence rose up from its hidden spot amid the dense, dark forest. He felt it didn’t fit the scenery surrounding it.

Though it may have been an aristocrat’s secondary home, there didn’t seem to be any good reason to construct a house in a place so difficult to get to, and which received so little sunlight. Though there was ivy crawling up the outer walls and gate, given its location, it would have been impossible to show off the house’s fine craftsmanship to anyone in the first place.

I’d be surprised if there was even anyone living here…

Sirok had been hired by the adults to get a clear census of the residents who had returned to the mountain.

It wasn’t a particularly strenuous job. His youthful stamina and the leg muscles he had built up in his eighteen years as a warrior proved very useful as he roamed up and down the Itaaki Highlands.

Although it wasn’t his preferred way of life, this was his reality now. All that his parents left behind for him was the enormous house his grandfather had once been gifted by a noble.

I need to finish up the mountain area fast. I still have to cover the foot of the mountain, too.

Consequently, Sirok then peeked inside for just a moment through a gap in the gate and planned to label the place uninhabited and be on his way.

“…Oh.”

In other words, he hadn’t thought about what he’d do if there was a person on the other side.

A well-kept garden stretched on the other side of the gate, its paint beginning to flake away, and there, in full bloom, were a number of beautiful pruned black roses.

Standing among them was a young girl.

In front of one of the rose bushes, she was gracefully crouched down while trimming their leaves.

A dense, dark forest. Roses as black as the dead of night.

Yet looking at the young girl’s profile…her breathtakingly pale skin was enough to shine through the dark curtain.

…A person. Did she always live here? Or did she wander in and settle down?

She looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old—nearly the same age as Sirok.

Nevertheless, her beauty made him question if she was a figment of his imagination.

The smooth nape of her neck peeked out from her downturned black hair. Long eyelashes, tinged with melancholy. Pupils colored gold.

…Those pupils happened to turn toward Sirok.

A brief, heart-stopping moment passed.

The young girl smiled.

“…Um, I-I’ve been tasked by the council of lords to verify all our residents…”

Immediately, an excuse forced its way out of his mouth.

That wasn’t his reason for looking at the girl moments prior. Sirok was ashamed of himself.

“Oh, is that so?”

Her smile exceedingly delicate, she walked up to Sirok, who had remained rooted to his spot in front of the gate. Sirok’s heart was deeply captivated by the girl’s floral fragrance; she was a pale blossom made flesh.

“How do you do? My name is Linaris. Might I have yours?”

“S-Sirok…the Sextant. You’re the person living here…right?”

“……”

Linaris didn’t answer. Something else appeared to have caught her attention.

She slightly knitted her well-kept eyebrows and placed a finger to her pale lips.

“I do beg your pardon…but it seems you’ve been injured.”

“……Huh?”

Following her gaze, Sirok finally became aware of the blood trickling down his left middle finger.

A sharp cut. He had either scratched it on the edge of the iron gate, or he had pricked it on a thorn of one of the roses wound around it. He had been so enthralled by the young girl’s appearance that he hadn’t even noticed the pain in his finger.

“Oh, no, my apologies…! But this cut isn’t really worth worrying about…”

“Please, come inside the mansion so I may treat it.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“…Should one of the roses I raised prove to have injured you, Master Sirok, why, I would be unable to face your parents or your employer… I ask that you please reconsider my offer.”

Faced with the fixed stare of her gold pupils, Sirok was unable to answer her.

She appeared to take his silence as affirmation and smiled.

Together with a light metallic creak, the gate separating the two of them opened.

I’m just here to verify residents. There’s absolutely no need for me to go inside…

Sirok hesitated, flickering his eyes back and forth between the girl and the path he traveled to get there.

This house was his only major excursion for the day. All of the other homes he could verify on his way back.

Not only that, but…if he was going to confirm whether anyone was living here or not, then an argument could be made to properly see for himself who else was living in this old mansion.

“Okay. I can’t stay for long, but if that’s fine with you…”

“…Indeed, I would most appreciate it. I shall prepare the finest amber tea for you.”

Following after Linaris, Sirok was finally able to look out over the state of the garden.

It wasn’t limited solely to the rusted gate. Cracks stood out in the mansion’s old stone walls, and despite the mansion resembling ruins, the garden was carefully maintained, without a single piece of gravel out of place.

The sights around him were adjacent to the part of Itaaki he called home, and yet much like the young girl and her ephemeral beauty, it was so removed from his daily life it seemed otherworldly. Maybe when the girl led him through the door of the mansion, it would lead all the way to the land of the Beyond.

…When had this young girl started living in this lonely mansion? Just who was she?

As though to further pierce Sirok’s inner anxieties, Linaris looked back slightly.

With a sidelong glance, her gold eyes met his.

“Please watch your step.”

“Y-Yeah, of course.”

She hadn’t actually read his mind.

Buried partway in the dirt, stone steps led up to the entryway. Sirok crossed over the small step, praying that she didn’t sense the sweat on his back—the result of her simply looking at him.

In complete contrast to the exterior, the inside of the mansion was very neat and tidy.

The furniture was scarce, drab, and tasteless, not unlike Sirok’s own home.

Also, it was dim and gloomy.

…It should still be the middle of the day right now.

As he made sure of facts that normally needed no confirmation, he hung up his hat.

Were there any other family members living here? He was about to ask Linaris—

“Please, if you’ll wait just a moment.”

She slid the black cape from her shoulders.

Her previously concealed white blouse exposed, he could now see the full volume of her breasts, straining against the delicate fabric. Sirok was taken aback.

She was the same age as him, if not slightly younger, and yet… Her arms and legs were so slender, and her presence felt almost incorporeal, but more than anything else—

“Is something the matter?”

“…O-oh, no it’s nothing.”

Linaris applied ointment to Sirok’s wound and began wrapping it with a fresh bandage.

Just below his eyeline were her beautiful gold pupils. When he took in her full form, stooped down at his feet, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering down a certain path.

Although he felt frustrated by the thought that he was losing his head over this girl, to Sirok, who had set his heart on the path of the warrior long before he could learn the names of any girls his age, his shock was all but to be expected.

“Excuse me while I prepare some hospitality. It is quite embarrassing, but…this mansion has no servants, you see.”

“You mean you’re living here by yourself…?”

“……My father is here. Please, Master Sirok, feel free to wait in the sitting room.”

Following her request, Sirok sat with nothing to do, enveloped in a sense of guilt, and his heartbeat pounding like an alarm bell in his head.

There was indeed nothing for him to do. Linaris said that her father was in this house.

Through observing her demeanor up until this point, he was able to get a sense of Linaris’s lineage and upbringing. They were either the original owners of this vacation home or close relatives of the nobility, who inherited it. In which case, if his beautiful adolescent daughter were to invite a man of low birth like Sirok into his home, what would said father do to him?

Even though he understood he was being excessively self-conscious, he couldn’t stop his intrusive thoughts. Moreover, if he let his mind wander, the deluge of mental images of Linaris’s beauty and her pale-white skin would all but swallow him whole.

Get a hold of yourself.

He put a finger on the claw-sword suspended from his hip and began to still the waves of his heart with martial concentration.

Get it together, Sirok. You just met this girl. This is all just part of the job.

He wasn’t sure if he could keep up this focus until Linaris returned. Either way, it took far longer than he would’ve imagined to simply prepare some tea.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting. In a dark house like this…you must have been awfully bored.”

“…Oh, no, nothing of the sort. It was a sudden visit on my part so it’s only natural.”

“How kind of you to say. Here you go. The leaves are from Caidehe.”

Sirok brought the amber tea up to his lips, but he couldn’t really tell the difference in taste… If anything, he felt that the tea he was accustomed to tasted better. He wouldn’t dare say this to Linaris, who was quietly staring at him, so he gave his best smile and replied:

“It’s delicious.”

“Oh, I am very glad… Well, it has been quite a long time since we’ve had guests. Would you mind if I asked you about yourself, Master Sirok?”

“S-sure. I don’t think there’s anything interesting to mention, though…”

“Hee-hee. You do yourself a disservice. Well then, when did you make your way back here to Itaaki?”

“About the same time as most of the residents. Immediately after the True Demon King fell. Of course…nothing was left for me besides the house passed down from my ancestors. With my path to distinguishing myself on the battlefield gone, now I work under the council of lords.”

“…You followed the path of the sword, then?”

Linaris cast her melancholic eyes down to Sirok’s claw-sword.

No matter how deep the forest was, there were no beasts in Itaaki that would willingly attack people. The weapon was not a lifestyle necessity but more of a lingering attachment to an era that was slowly fading away.

The age of stories, desperate for a hero that bestowed the chance to follow the path of the sword to all who desired it.

“It’s not a rare thing among men. With the Demon King gone, with it went the need for the younger generation to tragically throw their lives away… I didn’t have any opportunities to distinguish myself in battle, so now I’m doing the boring and menial work of a manservant. Though I did train for quite a long time…”

“…Oh, what a pity.”

“Ha-ha. Say that, and you’re just inviting the scorn of those that suffered under the True Demon King terror. I mean, even my parents were killed by the Demon King’s Army. More than battlefield exploits, I wish I could get them back. It was a truly twisted time.”

“Yes…that is indeed true, without a doubt. Nevertheless, your story, Master Sirok, I find is quite similar to my own.”

True to her words, Linaris’s faint and refined smile had a slight sadness to it.

No, there’s no way, he thought to himself, looking again at her physique.

Slender arms and legs. Transparent white skin like glass, as though it had never once stood beneath the sun’s rays.

Slim fingertips becoming a high-born young woman. Her hands had never even held a hatchet, let alone a spear or sword.

There was no way she could be a warrior.

“By that, you mean…?”

“I, too, lost much to the True Demon King… A great many things. Now the only things I have left to me are this mansion and my dear father.”

“Oh, right, of course… You’re right. Similar to myself.”

What exactly had he been thinking?

Obviously, that was the implication behind her words. Those unjustly taken by the True Demon King.

What was sought after in the dawn of this new age was peace so that people like him, without any strength of their own, wouldn’t lose anything ever again.

“May I ask what your father’s name is?”

“…Obsidian. Rehart the Obsidian.”

“Obsidian…?!”

Sirok nearly jumped to his feet. It was a name he had never imagined he would hear.

Obsidian. There could only be one person with a second name like that.

“Obsidian Eyes…?”

The terrifying spy guild, boasted to be both the biggest and strongest in the land.

No one knew the whole story behind them. Nor did anyone know precisely who their members were.

“Hm…? Is there something wrong?”

“No… Is th-that truly his name?”

“Tee-hee-hee… Would there be any reason for me to lie about my venerable father’s name? Did you find something otherwise strange about what I said?”

“…No, it’s fine.”

Was it really a good idea to interrogate Linaris about this here?

She was so clearly unperturbed that she also seemed completely unfamiliar with the name Obsidian altogether. If what she said was the truth, then Sirok had inadvertently gotten closer to the true identity of one of the era’s shadowy masterminds and was now under the very same roof.

Sirok, trying in vain to appear calm, gulped hard.

“If you’re Obsidian’s daughter… L-Linaris…Miss Linaris, can I then, um, ask you what your name is?”

“……? My name is Linaris.”

Linaris still wore her innocent smile as she cocked her head to the side.

From what he had seen of her refined etiquette, there was no question she possessed the common sense to answer when asked for her name, so it was possible she was mistaken about something.

Sirok asked once again.

“I meant your second name, Miss Linaris.”

“I don’t have one.”

“……You don’t?”

“Indeed. I am Linaris. I do not yet possess a second name. I am only Linaris. I would ask you to refer to me as such.”

Was that sort of thing even possible?

No matter how young she was, she was still sixteen or seventeen at the very least. Naturally, there were many examples of people who changed their second name either through later achievements or reputation, but she was of an age where she should have been bestowed a second name many years prior.

In a dilapidated mansion away from the eyes of others, there was a beautiful young girl, ephemeral like a ghost.

She said her own father was “Obsidian.”

And finally……she didn’t possess her own secondary name.

It’s almost like…a horror story.

The meager light that filtered in through the gaps in the windows faintly outlined her silhouette.

Was this girl the same sort of creature as Toroa the Awful?

Linaris began to speak again, as though nothing was amiss at all.

“Earlier, you mentioned that you were verifying the area’s residents, correct? Why exactly did the council of lords decide now of all times to conduct such a survey?”

“To balance the tax revenue and expenditures. There was also talk of an aristocrat who knew how to write making a ledger.”

“…Is that indeed so? In that case, Master Sirok. May I ask you to do me a favor?”

“A-as long as it’s something I can handle… What is it?”

“If there is indeed one who can read on the council…I would like you to bring this letter back with you. It is regarding something my father needs.”

A rolled-up parchment, sealed with wax. Perhaps writing this letter was what took her so long when she went to make tea.

More than that, though, Sirok was surprised that Linaris, not much different in age from himself, could read and write. It must have been the simple Order script. Either that or an aristocratic alphabet that was passed down among upper-class families.

“I don’t mind at all, of course… But, if the alphabet system you use is different, there’s no guarantee the aristocrats will be able to read them.”

“You honor me with your concern. Nevertheless, I ask you to bring the letter to them, Master Sirok.”

Linaris wrapped both of her pale fists gently around Sirok’s hand.

He couldn’t help focusing on her chest as she leaned forward.

A dark manor. Obsidian. Beautiful Linaris.

One thing after another, everything happening before him was impossible for him to fully process.

It was at that moment—

“……”

—Linaris suddenly turned around.

Somewhere, a mysterious something clattered.

There was another presence in the house. Was it Rehart the Obsidian?

Danger.

The remnants of his warrior instincts, aroused by the sound, narrowly managed to ring alarm bells within him.

He couldn’t remain in this manor any longer.

“…I understand. I’ll bring it back with me immediately. Thank you very much for the amber tea. This was a wonderful moment of respite.”

He simply needed to put on the fake smile he used when dealing with the other residents and take off.

Would he ever come here again? Well, even if he were to come back, it would have to be after he had calmed down and probably thought through everything that happened.

“Will I see you again?” Linaris said, a tremor in her voice.

“…Hmmm, yes. I’m sure you will.”

“Master Sirok. It’s very embarrassing to admit this, but, well… It’s been so long…”

Her gold eyes closed in. A strand of her hair brushed his cheek.

It should still be daytime out. Yet her smile was almost like a nighttime hallucination.

“…and I’ve been so lonely by myself.”

By the time he had returned to town, there were stars twinkling in the sky.

While preoccupied with thoughts of the sorrowful parting of his fleeting encounter, Sirok went to the aristocrat at the council hall to hand over the letter just as he was asked. He was of a far greater status than those who employed him. Sirok had heard the reason behind creating the resident ledger was also because this aristocrat had something they were particularly interested in investigating.

The aristocrat’s name was Enu the Distant Mirror, Thirteenth Minister of Aureatia.

“Hmph. And you were told to give me this letter, then?”

All of his hair was combed to the back of his head, and with his true age being outwardly inscrutable, the man left others with a shady and suspicious impression of him.

However, it was rare for an aristocrat not to despise children like Sirok, without any kith and kin.

“Yes. I definitely heard the name Obsidian, too. Do you believe Linaris was lying?”

“I’ll need to see the contents of this letter before I can make any judgment.”

He was neither perplexed by nor distrustful of Sirok’s full report, and simply opened up the seal to Linaris’s letter.

“Take a look.”

“What’s going on…?”

“This is a blank piece of parchment, Sirok.”

Nothing about Enu’s tone suggested he was reproaching the young man, but Sirok’s mind quaked with astonishment.

He thought there must have been some mistake.

“…That can’t be! I’m not lying! I went into that mansion! Even the letter, she left it behind with me…and L-Linaris! She was there, I swear, Lord Enu!”

“Calm yourself. The truth. Not the past or the future. Let’s start with the current facts. Just as I’ve taught my own men.”

“But…!”

“Look at the facts. Until I opened this up, there was a seal stamped down here, yes?”

Enu continued matter-of-factly, fiddling with a fragment of the broken wax seal.

“You said that this letter wasn’t a lie, yes? You’re right. So long as you didn’t miraculously stumble upon a letter sealed with the Obsidian crest somewhere, that makes it clear there must have been someone to hand you this letter.”

“Still though, why…? Why ask me to deliver a blank piece of paper…?”

“Therein lies the main point of inquiry. That’s all we need to think about.”

She had said to make sure the letter was passed along. He didn’t understand what her aim was. How much of what happened that day had been reality, and how much had been a dream?

Pondering over something, Enu quickly rapped his finger on his temple.

“Then… Well. If you’re not in the mercenary trade, then it’s reasonable you wouldn’t be familiar with this either. I will let you in on one more fact.”

Enu’s expression was as disimpassioned as a wax doll’s.

However, even someone who counted their name among Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Ministers was having difficulty weighing the facts from the events Sirok was describing.

“Obsidian Eyes has already been eradicated.”

The following day. Just as he promised, Sirok met with Linaris once again.

It proved to be a reunion far more gruesome than anyone could imagine.

“The Visitors have brought many types of knowledge to this world. Among that knowledge, what do you think proved to be the most useful of all?”

It was the dead of night.

Before getting to the topic at hand, Aureatia’s Thirteenth Minister introduced his argument.

Sirok didn’t know exactly what school was like, but the thin cane Enu held appeared almost like a teacher’s pointer in his hands.

“I didn’t actually get much schooling. The visitors brought guns…and, what was the other thing…? Oh, right, they brought the metric system, too.”

“Unexpectedly sharp observation there. You seem familiar with the story of Victor the Miser, right? That marked the arrival of the metric standard. Over there it’s nothing more than a measuring system, though. Combining all the measuring systems into one was truly a huge achievement. However, the advent of this system did not go a long way toward saving the world.”

The visitors possessed enough strength and vitality to overpower the people of this world, and many times they would use the knowledge from their world to forcibly rewrite society through a single general.

The wealthy businessman who brought the unifying system of measure to this world, Victor the Miser, was one of the most extreme examples. Nevertheless, there was another similarly big shift that Enu had in mind.

“Then, what is the answer?”

“Epidemiology. Accurate foundational understanding of epidemics is the biggest reason why recent generations have seen a striking increase in the average lifespan of us minia. Surely you know that disease is carried by small organisms that are invisible to the naked eye. It’s been so fully established in our world that there are some who learn this in academic halls, while others are told by their parents. However, this understanding was only brought to us as recently as a hundred years ago.”

“…Wouldn’t you say a hundred years isn’t quite ‘recent?’”

“Of course it is. Up until then, there was only a vague concept of hygiene. From the time the royal family was established and onward, no one had any ideas regarding the true nature of disease.”

With his hard, serious expression unchanged, the Thirteenth Minister humorously raised one of his eyebrows.

Sirok remembered the story from a fellow student who arrived from Aureatia. He was a boorish man and had no talent with the sword, but there was one story he would occasionally tell that was entertaining. It was about sewer system maintenance.

In the past, water reservoirs and sewage that hadn’t spread beyond the world’s urban areas were thoroughly maintained out of fear of disease. Conversely, farther out on the frontier, there were still villages with pit latrine–style toilets, but Sirok had never seen these for himself.

“Still, though, is this a necessary part of the topic at hand?”

“It is, because this topic involves the form and nature of vampires.”

“……”

“I will tell you the truth. The leader of Obsidian Eyes, Rehart the Obsidian, is rumored to be a vampire.”

Vampires. When he heard the word, the first thing that came to Sirok’s mind was Linaris.

White, as if she detested sunlight, nigh-impossible beauty, and a dreamlike charm…

“Vampires are one of the races whose true forms remained unknown until the modern era. Even the vampires themselves didn’t truly understand the nature of their own existence… In truth, vampirism is a deviant and deadly strain of disease.”

“Disease…?! Wait, but she looked minian… I could see her with my own eyes, and I touched her.”

“It’s the truth. The vampire’s main body is the pathogen in their blood. They think like people, but that is because their host is an animal capable of thought, and they are simply making use of their structural makeup. On top of this…vampires can infect others with the disease through mucus membranes or wounds. Then, similar in structure to the way ants work under command from their queen, the infected are turned into slaves that are fully influenced by the pheromones from their ‘parent.’ Manipulating them to be soldiers, forcing them to go beyond their physical limits, making them commit suicide—whatever they see fit. They’re referred to as a ‘thrall.’ That’s the first stage.”

Dragons. Ogres. Slimes. Many of the deviant species across the land came to them as Visitors and established themselves as a separate species. Inanimate enchanted swords and magic tools were another variety of these deviant and abnormal species. Exactly how much was included within this categorization was something not a single person living in their world could theorize on.

Supposing a virus, invisible to the naked eye, were to depart from its normal evolution, and deviate enough to jump between worlds, what shape would it take in that situation?

“Phase two. Regardless of whether they’re a vampire or a thrall, the infected’s child naturally contracts the pathogen, and their body is remade in the womb. Then, they become able to generate the vampire pathogen themselves. That makes them a new ‘parent.’ The next generation of vampire. Through blood transmission and infection from mother to child, they increase the numbers of infected.”

“The unborn child…is remade? D-does something that horrifying really happen?”

“You see, Sirok, our genetic makeup, well… It’s decided by a chain of factors, even more minuscule than our cells, which are passed on by our ancestors… To explain even further, the vampires are specialists, far beyond our capabilities, when it comes to recombining these linking factors. Specialized, and shrewd. They can easily construct these parents to more easily accomplish their blood infections, both by giving them forms that are alluring to others, and through physical abilities that cause bloodshed.”

They were unable to cross moving water. They died when bathed in sunlight. They loathed germicidal herbs. It was possible to combat them with weapons of silver. The various elements described as weaknesses in legends from the Beyond largely didn’t apply to actual vampires themselves.

However, these legends brilliantly hit the mark on the truth behind one certain aspect of their physiology.

“Now, my introductory explanation ran a bit long. But I needed to explain all of this to you beforehand in order for you to understand the truth.”

“Well…I’m sorry to say but I didn’t really understand most of what you were talking about. Why are you telling a kid like me all of this? Are you trying to say Linaris is dead?”

“You are.”

“…I’m…what?”

The civil servant smiled callously and put a piece of fabric on top of the table.

It was the one Linaris had used to wrap his wound…which Enu had then changed after he listened to Sirok’s story.

“I had a soldier examine your blood. You’ve already been infected. With this, we know for a fact that there was a vampire in that manor you visited.”

“Th-that can’t be…! I’m not dead! I’m here, talking to you right now! I have a will of my own!”

“That much is true. The undead simply obey the commands of their parent. They aren’t the mindless, shambling corpses they’re generally believed to me. As long as your parent unit remains, you’ll be able to return to your minian life… Though you’ll be in a hospital ward for a little bit. It requires a variety of different treatments, of course.”

Sirok clutched his head from dizziness. He wasn’t minian. He was a worker drone under the control of a shapeless disease. Was he fated for such a disappointing end?

His left middle finger… Had her blood been mixed into the ointment she had used on him? He had also drunk the amber tea she prepared for him. Did that mean…

“L-Linaris.…was deceiving me…from the very start…?!”

“Considering all the facts, I am obliged to come to that conclusion. Both Rehart the Obsidian and Linaris are nothing more than threats to the minian races. You’ll cooperate with us, won’t you, Sirok?”

Sirok nodded, stricken with grief. Even now, with his burning adoration for Linaris unabated, it was the only choice he had.

…Or perhaps, it was the same with his feelings, too.

His feelings for her might have been entirely fabricated, brought on by the disease, exactly as Enu had described.

Then, the next morning arrived. Inside Sirok’s enormous mansion, an assembled troop of field soldiers waited eagerly for the raid to begin. The space inside his home was being filled for the first time, as a garrison for the Thirteenth Minister’s soldiers.

“It’s barely been four and a half days since your call to arms, and there’s already so many…”

“Oh, did I forget to mention? I came here to Itaaki in order to put down Obsidian, who we suspected was hiding out here. We didn’t want to put our enemy on alert while we didn’t yet know where he was hiding, after all. I had them on standby in the next town over.”

“Wait, are you saying my resident survey job was part of it…?! Then, then I…”

Thanks to that, he was now a thrall.

While he wished to lash out in reproach, he immediately understood the root cause lay in Linaris’s deception, and Sirok’s chest tightened, without any outlet for his anger.

If he was only confirming whether or not a home had residents, he would have been able to go back after seeing Linaris in the garden.

He knew about vampires. He had plenty of chances to realize the truth for himself. He let his guard down.

The root cause that led him to expose himself to danger was unmistakable.

“Sirok. We’ll rely on you to lead us to the manor, but we’re going to bind both your arms. Also, in order to check if you’re under the influence of her pheromones or not, we will be regularly checking your pupils. These measures are to defend us from attacks, but we also want to protect you from committing suicide, or something similar. Will you be okay with that?”

“…Yes. Can a vampire’s control make me tell lies?”

“That’s a reasonable concern to have. It seems that vampires have techniques for mental control as well. At your current stage, the parent will be unable to have advanced control over your responses without directly passing them on to you with their own words. As long as we’re able to prevent you from going berserk, I believe there will be no problems with having you guide us to the manor.”

Meanwhile, Enu had been using his vast knowledge, far greater than Sirok could possibly understand, to lay precision tactical groundwork for the raid. Ever since he put on the charade of preparing the trifling resident ledger.

Such were Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Officials. Sirok had believed that the path of the sword was the only way to make one’s way through life, but there were also those who never once picked up a blade.

They departed for Linaris’s mansion at daybreak. The field soldiers concealed the sounds of their steps as they advanced, and thus, the only people who witnessed the passing army were ranchers milking their cows out in the road.

After a short distance, and once again in front of the gloomy mansion, Sirok posed a question.

All around him, Enu’s soldiers appeared to be moving along with the operation, but he still didn’t understand what they were doing.

“Do vampires hate the sun?”

“Generally speaking, yes. Not to the point that they’re unable to move beneath it. Nevertheless, if there is something that might tip the scales even the slightest bit in our favor, I will employ it. That is all.”

Encircling the mansion while the sun was out, all Sirok could do was watch the soldier’s performance, like flowing water, while his arms remained heavily bound. Enu the Distant Mirror was planning on butchering Linaris without a sliver of mercy.

…I’d like to talk to her again.

The thought surely must have been influenced by her hold over him.

If Linaris was the one who had turned him into a corpse, then as long as there remained the fear of being under her control, Sirok was unable to return to his minian life. These thoughts were nothing more than irrational delusions.

Will I see you again?

As the men surrounded the mansion, they watched as flames suddenly erupted from every window.

It had been completely set ablaze.

“Linaris…!”

“I understand what you’re feeling. I’ve heard that vampires have an almost otherworldly beauty.”

The Thirteenth Minister had a pipe in his mouth and watched the blaze with a solemn expression.

“That’s why I want to bring her down before she reveals herself to us. Your information was truly a big help. As a reward for your cooperation, I’ll pen a letter of introduction for your hospital stay.”

Everything burned. All traces of the property were charred black. The dark and dreary mansion, the rose garden, and everything else.

He would never be able to exchange words with Linaris again.

The size of the field soldier troop wasn’t enough to surround a terrifyingly powerful vampire and bring it down with numbers. This was so they could all take part in the instantaneous fire attack and bring things to a close immediately before their targets had any time to react.

…Still, that letter.

Even though there had been nothing but a blank piece of paper inside, if that was Linaris and her father’s way of seeking to open some sort of dialogue…

Then Enu had instead seen that as a golden opportunity, and showing up with this terrible surprise attack…

The fire continued to burn, like the sun overpowering the moon with its light.

Nevertheless, the flames failed to burn through the black curtain in his heart.

“Sirok the Sextant. There are two burnt bodies. Though you really can’t tell the faces from one another. Want to try confirming if it’s them?”

“……No.”

Even when he had heard the soldier’s report, his mind was still enshrouded by a black curtain.

He didn’t want to see Linaris’s beautiful body cruelly burned to ash.

“Now, Sirok, here’s the thing about love…,” Enu said, out of character, on their route home, the post-operation cleanup concluded and the sun beginning to set. “…The first time is the most beautiful of all. However, that first love is the one that has the smallest chance of success.”

“…I don’t need your comfort.”

“No one can ever manage to forget their very first love. It’s a fact. All we can do is have new encounters and push that first love further and further away. In so doing, this world never runs out of tales of love and hate. Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

The Thirteenth Minister laughed with just his mouth, the look on his face remaining unchanged.

…He may have had a point. The girl was a vampire. If he did meet with Linaris a second or third time, their encounter wouldn’t end with memories of her beauty. He would have been shown things he didn’t want to see and made to fear things he didn’t want to be afraid of.

Sirok was confident their reunion would’ve been a gruesome one.

What was inside of Sirok’s heart now was only the beautiful form he saw standing in the garden.

Even though he longed to see her again, he had separated himself from her.

All the mysteries, all the secrets would be lost in the sea of time.

It was hard for him to say Enu’s words were comforting, and they were few, but by the time he finally returned to his home, Sirok had been able to convince himself.

“If our preparations for departure are finished expediently, we intend to leave for Aureatia in the evening. It’ll have to be on the way, my apologies, but we’ll deliver you to the hospital, too.”

“……Thank you.”

He obediently bowed his head. It appeared he would be away from the house he had inherited from his parents for a time.

Or maybe, things might stay like that forever.

The house had almost never had guests to begin with. While the soldiers had been briefly stationed there, he figured this would be the last time the house would be bustling with this many guests.

If I could cook for them, or show them any hospitality, that would be nice.

With Sirok’s skill set, even that much was out of his reach. Thus, there was nothing he could do as master of the house besides stand as he was in the entryway and receive the column of soldiers into his home.

When the last soldier in the line arrived, he closed the door.

Then came a shrill ringing noise.

“Ngh!”

“Hrnk!”

Two soldiers joined together and collapsed in a heap.

Their bodies clashed, and the noise sounded similar to that of a stringed instrument. The odd sound blended together with the grisly sound of bones breaking, creating a gruesome cacophony.

The entryway was painted red with blood and viscera.

“Wh-what the…?!”

Sirok tried to take out his claw-sword. Seeing the grisly scene before him, he was certain that was what he had tried to do.

However, incomprehensibly, his body didn’t budge.

He watched the next event unfold.

One of the soldiers turned back toward him and sent their short sword flying out of its sheath. They weren’t aiming for Sirok. Separated from his bodyguards, Enu the Distant Mirror’s right knee was run through, and the momentum of the thrust sent him toppling backward to the ground.

“Augh…?”

“Master Enu!”

“Hnngh, enemy attack! Restrain Mezde and Sirok! They’re thralls!”

Enu cried, without recoiling in pain. The short sword–wielding soldier Mezde appeared terribly confused. Contrary to his visible unrest, his body again tried to brandish his sword, and he was immediately immobilized. The soldier, Mezde, with his hand twitched up behind his back, shouted.

“W-Wait! I haven’t done anything to get infected! Nothing at all!”

As far as Sirok had seen, that should have been the case.

A brawny solder grabbed Sirok’s arm and forced it into the restraints. The soldier named Mezde was similarly put into shackles.

“…I don’t believe it. How were we found out? What happened?”

While twisting his expression in an odd way—likely a sign of anger—Enu held a nearby tablecloth with his chin and wrapped it around his wound.

“The parent is nearby… There’s been an infected hiding out among us from the beginning… No, that can’t be…!”

Next, a different soldier went mad. The soldier who restrained Mezde suddenly drew their sword and sliced at the person behind him. The soldier under attack tried to defend himself. However, the berserk soldier’s strength, far surpassing its normal limits, tore halfway through the armor protecting his torso. Physical strength, beyond normal limits. He, too, was a thrall.

“A-ahhh…! N-no…yeeeaaaaugh!”

“Dammit! There’s still another thrall!”

“Everyone, check your pupils!”

“There’s still the attack that did in the two by the door! Don’t let down your guard!”

The heavily wounded soldier writhed in agony for a brief moment before expiring on the spot.

Panic. Chaos.

Sirok couldn’t grasp the situation. What was going on?

Vampires… If the Obsidian was dead, shouldn’t the threat have vanished?

“Linaris!”

He shouted, still restrained. Even if it went against the understanding he had arrived at in his heart, he didn’t care.

He hoped strongly to see her somewhere, and for his words to reach her.

“If you consider yourself a friend of Sirok the Sextant, then show yourself! Are you doing this of your own will?! Is this the work of Obsidian…?! Linaris!”

His voice echoed to a whisper through the expansive and eerie premises.

The soldiers seemed terrified of the slightest movements any of them made and stood there with weapons drawn and on high alert.

All of the men confirmed to be infected were restrained and lying down on the floor. There were far too many.

Vampirism spread through the blood. There also needed to be more time between initial infection and pathogenic control. Even if the mysterious attacks gave an opportunity to infect through the resulting wounds, there shouldn’t have been any possible way to turn this many people into thralls at once.

“Master Sirok.”

Then came a quiet voice. He heard the clattering sound of wheels spinning.

Black hair, contrasting starkly with her pure white skin.

Gold eyes tinged with melancholy.

She— Linaris appeared from deeper down the hallway.

Her footsteps didn’t make any sound, as if she were an angel from on high.

Was she a ghost? Or maybe, an illusion, from the very moment Sirok laid eyes on her.

He should have found her terrifying, yet she was beautiful.

She was pushing a wheelchair, with someone seated in it, wrapped up in a luxurious robe.

“Linaris…”

“We were able to meet again, just as you promised… But, how awful of you.”

The lovely vampire girl gave a lonely smile.

“You were trying to kill me, were you not?”

Her voice was calm, just like when he had first met her.

She’s so gorgeous.

Sirok thought to himself amid the silence.

Even in the middle of this hellish sea of blood.

Linaris’s appearance was so heavenly and calm, it was enough to take any of the soldiers’ breath away, but nevertheless, not a single one of the soldiers could make any movements to draw their bow. It was inexplicable.

Enu barked an order.

“That’s the vampire parent. Don’t let her speak. Shoot.”

“They will not shoot me, Master Enu the Distant Mirror.”

“……Shoot her!”

The fwoom of the crossbows’ release rang out. It was the sound of two soldiers shooting each other in the face.

The two had their pupils checked only moments prior and had been confirmed to be uninfected.

Despite the terrifying scene, the ones witnessing it couldn’t move at all, unable to escape or defend themselves, as Linaris looked on at them all tranquilly.

“That’s not it…”

Enu’s voice was shaking.

The face of the Thirteenth Minister, once composed, even with the injury to his leg, was now twisted in fear.

His lucid mind derived the answer to the situation playing out before his eyes.

“That’s not it… Th-these aren’t enemies we can fight… Retreat! How is a mutation like this…even possible…?! Everyone, get out of this house now!”

Pale skin, translucent and glasslike, as though it had never once been graced by the sun’s rays.

Slim fingertips, becoming of a high-born young woman. Her hands had never even held a hatchet, let alone a spear or sword.

She was not a warrior…

…However.

“The air! It spreads through the air!”

Panic erupted.

The Thirteenth Minister’s soldiers shot and cut each other down, begging for their lives as they killed each other. And those who tried to escape were altogether dissected by an invisible string.

Linaris cocked her head, looking a bit at a loss, without a single drop of the blood spurts getting anywhere near her.

Sirok groaned in the middle of the hellish scene.

“Obsidian… Linaris… You were the true Obsidian after all…”

“Heavens, no. I could not possibly dare to disrespect my father’s illustrious name by claiming his deeds as my own.”

She tenderly grasped the hand of the person sitting in the wheelchair.

An elbow, peeking through with skin like wax, limply shook.

“Obsidian is my father’s organization. Eternally powerful, eternally flourishing…to lead us all on the correct path to the future. Why, I could not possibly be Obsidian…”

Obsidian Eyes was already wiped out.…just as Enu had said.

The reason for that was now as clear.

“Linaris! Stop… Please, you have to know the truth! Th-that person… They’re already.…”

“My father’s Obsidian Eyes are not done. My dear father is big, kind, and strong. Everything will go back to the way it was before. Linaris is always here at your side.”

Bringing her lips against the parched shell of a hand, Linaris slowly turned back.

None before her could move their body even the slightest inch…… No, that wasn’t entirely true.

“…Let us begin. Now, eyes, gathered beneath our Obsidian. Unmatched and steadfast champions. We shall bestow upon you an era deserving of you all. Now then, state your names.”

There were people squirming in the dark.

How many people out there in the world were even capable of hiding and evading detection from Aureatia’s grizzled field troops, and possessed techniques to kill and dissect soldiers with string traps?

They were there in Obsidian Eyes. Innumerable eyes appeared out of the darkness.

Out from behind the Aureatia troops. From above. From the farthest reaches of the unseen terrors of the night.

“Fifth formation vanguard. Zeljirga the Abyss Web.”

There was a zumeu pulling threads with all ten fingers.

“Seventh formation rearguard. Wieze the Variation.”

There was a strangely shaped minia, back bent and walking on all fours.

“F-fourth formation vanguard. Yakrai the Tower.”

There was a minia carrying a straight sword.

“First formation vanguard. Lena the Obscured.”

There was an elf who had both eyes covered by a bandage.

“Fourth formation rearguard. Frey the Waking.”

There was a leprechaun with a cane.

Each one of them was so powerful, they were on the verge of becoming champions themselves. They were at the upper limits of their supernatural abilities and training.

Nevertheless, what stood there was in fact a host of thralls, commanded by a singular will, and given strength beyond the limits of their minian bodies, all at the hands of the vampire pathogen.

Enu moaned.

“…Damned undead……!”

“Obsidian Eyes is alive. Right here, as you can see. You will soon be able to understand that much yourself, Master Enu the Distant Mirror.”

Linaris smiled—like the smile of an innocent child—and stooped down in front of Enu, sprawled out on the floor.

Her unsettling palm gently caressed his cheek.

“You shall give us your recommendation for the royal games, yes? A return to the age of champions, as the Hero. For my father…let us once again create an age of warring strife.”

“Who would ever…agree to the demands…of a monster like you…?”

“You will. It’s been this way from the very start.”

She had known Enu the Distant Mirror’s name from the beginning.

From the start, this had been her only goal. Everything had been for the sake of bringing him under her control.

If not for the blank letter, would Sirok have unreservedly told the aristocrat lord about her? From a simple blank piece of paper, Enu had understood that Obsidian was there. The truth of Sirok’s infection showed him proof of the vampire’s existence. She had known that there was a mansion here with enough space for the Thirteenth Minister to quarter his troops. The entire detachment lying in wait in the neighboring town as well—she had lured them all out by providing them information.

As she openly presented an easy-to-trace path of infection, beneath the surface, she had kept the true method of the infection a secret.

If Sirok hadn’t been invited into that manor, the current tragedy never would have unfolded.

However, the wound at the beginning… His tiny, insignificant scratch.

“Linaris, it’s not true, right…?! The wound on my finger, I only pricked a thorn, right…? It was really…all just a coincidence, right?!”

Linaris was not a warrior.

Nevertheless, in both her thoughts and way of being, she was completely beyond his reach, different from Sirok in every possible dimension.

For the sake of her deep-rooted obsession with a dying age, she intended to regress this world back to that time once again.

“You said you’ve been all alone…and lonely, didn’t you?! Isn’t that right?! I know you were all by yourself! And maybe, maybe I had just…”

The pale noble daughter smiled elegantly.

That settled it. Sirok knew his feelings had been genuine.

Even if he had been under her control, there was some of his own will buried within these emotions.

“Master Sirok. Thank you… I was so happy for the opportunity to have a regular conversation with someone…just like a normal girl.”

Her golden eyes were tinged with melancholy.

Her pale skin was so delicate it seemed to be on the verge of fading away, as were her delicate arms and legs. Every single part of her beautiful form seemed incongruous with the blood-soaked tragedy she was orchestrating.

Something so cruel shouldn’t have been allowed to happen.

“Farewell.”

She held a meticulous and cunning power, pulling on spider threads with unseen fingertips.

She had obtained a mutated method of infection, wholly unforeseeable and inconceivable to ascertain with everyday logic.

She commanded the world’s largest secret organization, a military force of unrivaled elites, gathered from far and wide.

A wicked and terrible colony of espionage, commanded by a singular will concealed within shadows.

Scout. Vampire.

Linaris the Obsidian.